


Lawyer

by belana



Series: New Order [3]
Category: Crows Zero (Movies)
Genre: Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 20:45:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10369041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belana/pseuds/belana
Summary: Sometimes, looking back, one realizes that they should have taken a student loan.





	

**Author's Note:**

There is a bar called _Dream_ , popular among local punks, it's tucked between a bike rent and a grocery shop, two blocks away from Suzuran. It's actually a night club, but no one is going to kick you out if you ask to stay nicely.

"Hey, Ushiyama! Bring the whiskey!" Genji demands loudly. The noise dies out as if some prompter held out a 'quiet' sign. The gang surrounds the birthday boy, who is sitting on a bar stool, and staring at bottles behind bartender's back.

"Well, I don't know, Genji..." Ushiyama pouts, polishing a glass.

"What is it that you don't know, huh? I'm legal!" Genji bangs a fist on the battered counter, covered in bottle labels and scribbles.

It's Genji's birthday today, and anyone who upsets him will die slowly and painfully.

"You are, but what about your friends?" Ushiyama squints at battered crows. The Mikamis are the first to fold, they turn to Chuta and tell him a joke with cheerfulness that seems forced.

"Let me drink everything," Izaki proposes, coming closer with a too kind smile, resembling bulletproof glass that materialized between Genji and the bartender. "To the birthday boy's health. I can even show an ID." He produces a well-worn wallet from the jeans back pocket. He shuffles all sorts of documents as if they were a deck of cards. "This one says I'm eighteen, this one says I'm twenty one — old enough for hard drinks."

"Oh, you sly fox," Ushiyama shakes his head, but puts a whiskey bottle and one glass on the counter. Izaki calmly grabs another seven glasses. "Hey!"

"I prefer to drink from a new glass every time." Izaki smiles even more pleasantly, picks up the bottle and returns to their table.

Legal and underage guys hesitate before pouring themselves some, but they drink the first round, then the second one. Someone steals ice and a bottle of soda from the counter.

"Can I get you tea or coffee?" Ushiyama quietly asks a boy, hunched over in the corner. He jerks up, looks at the bartender blearily, blinking rapidly, like a salaryman who fell asleep in the subway and ended up at the terminal. Then he gathers his wits, of course, and smiles brightly.

"Thanks, I have my juice," the boy shakes his head, showing an almost full glass.

 

* * *

 

Tokio likes this place. Weird, but talented musicians play here on Thursdays and Saturdays, and it's crowded even during a regular day. It's easy to lose yourself among strangers and forget your problems. The place is usually noisy and full of people, but no one ever fights. No one is dumb enough to start a brawl in a place, controlled by yakuza.

And the bartender doesn't water down the beer, at least if you're Takiya Genji's friend.

Tokio likes it here even today. There is a 'private party' sign on the door, Tamao is on stage and tries to break the drums, Tokio himself can't drink anything stronger than juice after the operation. The bartender offers him some low-alcohol fruity beer, but it only makes Tokyo hiccup.

"I'll step out for a minute," he whispers into Genji's ear. The new old friend nods, smiling as if he were not entirely here. It's probably the effect of mixing beer and whiskey.

Tokio enters the back alley and leans back against the wall, feeling rough bricks biting into his shoulder blades. He still tires fast: not physically, but emotionally. He needs cooling down like an overheated PC processor.

He searches for cigarettes just to keep himself busy. They are in the shirt pocket, but his lighter is probably still on the table. He chews on the filter and isn't very upset by such turn of events.

"Need a light?"

Tokio is blinded by the bright spark, puffs on his cigarette, politely exhales away from the stranger's face and finally looks at him.

"Thanks," Tokio wheezes.

Genji's father snorts, lights his own cigarette and leans against the wall too. Their elbows are almost touching, Tokio is highly aware of his warmth — like that bullshit from Mom's favourite TV show about psychics were true, like their auras overlap and exchange impulses. The aura of Takiya-san must be golden, the color of early mild autumn when rain can start any minute. That is, it would have been if it existed.

"How is it going?" Takiya-san nods at the door. "Are they completely pissed?"

Tokio shakes his head. He's no tattletale, he's just honest.

"It's just started," he sighs, flipping ash off the cigarette.

Takiya Hideo is different from his son. They look alike, but it seems Takiya-san never gets angry, takes life for what it's worth and gets small rewards from the universe for that.

"I'll send a car to drive everyone home."

Again, he doesn't promise to box Genji's ears or to crash the party, he just deals with a problem — quickly and efficiently.

"Well, what about you, Tokio?"

"I'm not drinking," he smiles. "I mean, I'm not allowed to," he explains, gesturing at bandages.

Hideo-san only laughs. This sound warms Tokio up like a kitten curled up on his chest, and then shivers run down his spine as he knows that this unpredictable pet has awfully sharp claws.

Tokio suddenly realizes that he exchanged barely a dozen words with Genji's father in all previous years and he should mind what he's saying.

"I'm glad that my son has at least one responsible friend." Takiya-san exhales the smoke, throwing his head back. The gesture looks somewhat familiar, Genji must have picked it from his father. "I meant the future, though. I think you wanted to enter a university, didn't you?"

"Well, yes..." Tokio looks at his feet. "If everything works out."

"What do you want to become?"

"A lawyer, probably."

Tokio likes to think about studying, a huge office with his name written on the door, a respectable addressing 'sensei', but as soon as he tries to voice it, it sounds ridiculous — like saying he wants to become a cosmonaut.

"Oh," Takiya-san sounds as if he doesn't believe him. Or maybe he thinks Tokio is immature, like _I've seen starry-eyed boys before, Tatsukawa-kun_. "What people do you want to help, Tokio? The innocent ones?"

The conversation is going the wrong way like a car skidding on a road, Tokio's completely lost control; he can only hope not to smash into the trees, growing along the road.

"There are few innocent men in jail, Takiya-san," he says quietly. "But I think they deserve decent treatment. And a second chance."

Hideo-san neatly throws the cigarette butt into a trash bin, clenches his shoulder in lieu of good-bye and leaves without a word.

 

* * *

 

"You're always a disgrace," Genji complains drunkenly, sitting on the veranda. He wants to shower and lie down, but untying laces has become a challenge, so he lies down right there, on the cool planks, shutting his eyes so the street light doesn't blind him.

"You friend, Tokio, is a curious fellow," his father observes, pressing a bottle of cold mineral water to Genji's forehead.

"So what?"

"His family is quite rich."

"Yeah," Genji agrees and drinks the water.

"But not rich enough to pay for tuition in a law school."

Father gently flicks his fingers against Genji's temple and rises.

"Invite him over to our house some time."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

"Alright." Genji is too tired to argue.

"And don't fall asleep on the floor like a dog," he says over his shoulder and goes back inside.

"Shut up."


End file.
